


I Liked You Better In Quidditch Robes

by springsummer20



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Semi-Public Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Underage Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:00:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28628421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springsummer20/pseuds/springsummer20
Summary: They met when she was twelve, he was seventeen. He was wearing Quidditch Robes back then. And then they met again a few years later and he was wearing a different kind of robe that made her so sad and angry at the same time. Death eater robes.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Thorfinn Rowle
Comments: 14
Kudos: 110





	I Liked You Better In Quidditch Robes

**Author's Note:**

> A light start. This will be three chapters. And I will NOT be following JKR’s timeline.

She was twelve years old, a first year in Hogwarts when she first met him. He had long blond hair in a messy bun and he was tall, too tall for her or anybody in the school. He was brawny as well, evidenced by how easily he plucked her out of the tree she was stuck in trying to save her familiar, who traitorously abandoned her by jumping from one branch to another like he wasn’t mewling for help earlier. Now here she was, stuck midway to a very tall tree hanging onto a branch for dear life. 

His arms easily caught hold of her waist after expertly climbing the tree like it was nothing. She resisted, too scared to let go of the branch she was clinging onto to trust a seventh year Slytherin not to drop her on the ground where her left shoe was currently on as it dropped there when she almost fell off because of her damn cat struggling like the little monster it was. 

“Let go Princess. I’ve got you.” He whispered on her ear, his warmth pressed on her back as he secured her firmly in his arms.

“No.” She muttered stubbornly, eyes fixated on the ground, her brain calculating how high up they were. She heard him snicker at her response and he dropped a kiss on top of her head as if he was extremely fond of her. “Then are you planning to stay here all day?” He whispered to her while he started to caress her hair noticing how she was slightly trembling from her fear of heights. 

Hermione was so embarrassed but she had her pride as well. “I’m fine.” She gulped as she saw another Slytherin student appear below them and took her satchel that she carelessly dropped on the grassy ground in panic when she saw Crookshanks on the tree, hiking it on his shoulder. He had black hair and a lanky form, a bored expression on his face.

“Oh Toshka! Good timing!” He gave her a gentle squeeze.

“Thorfinn Rowle.” He sighed dramatically. “I thought you were saving a cat? That is not a cat.” He clicked his tongue and shook his head. He muttered and sighed as if exhausted from his friend’s antics. At the mention of a cat, her traitorous part-kneazle familiar with his squashed face slinked its way around the brunet’s legs and rubbed it’s head on his trousers. 

Traitor. She ought to return him to where she bought that creature. 

“Okay Princess, here’s the plan, if you let go of the branch then I’ll give you a chocolate frog.” 

“No.”

“She’s a first year Rowle not a toddler.” The brunet sneered at them.

“I’ll give you a ride on my broom then Princess, how does that sound?”

The boy down below snorted and arched his eyebrow at them, “Really Rowle? A little too young for such broom rides. You might end up at Azkaban earlier than expected if you let her ride your broom.”

“NOT THAT KIND OF RIDE YOU TOSSER!” He let go of her waist to give his friend the finger and that startled her so much that she let go of the branch. There was a split second feeling of weightlessness as she lost her balance and the sickening swoop of her stomach going up her throat as she fell. The moment felt like an eternity until she felt arms going around her again and pulling her back on a hard chest. 

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” She gulped. 

“You stubborn little thing.” He was chuckling like an idiot and Hermione had a strong feeling that he was enjoying this too much. The near death experience made Hermione follow his instructions though, no longer resisting. She grabbed onto his arm that she was now only noticing was clad in Quidditch gear. Arm guards, was that what it’s called? She remembered the Weasley twins polishing theirs in the Gryffindor common room and Ron begging to try it on as it was newly bought, a gift from a brother in Romania or so. He easily hauled her over his shoulders and she huffed at the atrocity of his treatment like she was some sack of potatoes. From her vantage point of view she could see ROWLE stitched on his Quidditch robes at the back and the word CAPTAIN just above it. 

“Okay princess, we’re gonna jump.” His deep voice seemed so far away.

“What do you mean...”

And he jumped off the tree. Before she could even have the chance at screaming, they landed softly on the ground and he gently manoeuvred her so she wasn’t dangling over his shoulders anymore but sitting on one of his arms, her face above his pretty one. He looked like a viking. A very pretty viking. How utterly unfair is the world? Why do boys get long lashes and pretty eyes and good teeth, with clear skin and soft hair without even trying? She started playing with his hair, wondering what shampoo he used and his very amused face kept quiet, letting her do her observations.

“Rowle.” The brunet boy cleared his throat. Hermione stopped but did not withdraw her hands, she looked at the other boy in question and saw him with a worried look on his face.

“Hmmm?” Thorfinn replied without taking his eyes off of Hermione.

“You’re late for Quidditch practice. Let the firstie go now.” 

“Right.” He mumbled, a big smile still on his face. “Now princess, be a good girl and stop climbing trees okay.”

She tried not to scowl at his condescending attitude as if he thought he just saved her from a mountain troll and not a very tall tree. She looked at the tree they just descended and she realised that he must have casted a charm to slow down them down when he jumped. She wanted to ask what charm it was and the wandwork needed but stopped herself.

“Thank you for your help.” She said softly, her mother did teach her manners after all. 

“Don’t I get a kiss—oww!” His brunet friend just whacked his head with her satchel which he immediately tossed to her. 

“Jailbait.” The brunet muttered as he took his friend by the ear towards the direction of the Quidditch pitch. 


End file.
